


In Your World

by suspendedinice



Series: Modern Life is Rubbish [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Coming Out, Gay Peter Parker, Gay Steve Rogers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, also, and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23515690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suspendedinice/pseuds/suspendedinice
Summary: Steve Rogers hadn't expected to befriend Peter Parker at all, but somehow the kid had become a regular fixture in his life. So seeing him this upset was distressing, to say the least.“Everything you represent is everything I’m supposed to- supposed to…” He trailed off, staring down at the streets a thousand feet below him.“What do you think you’re supposed to be, Peter?”“I don’t know. Brave. Strong.” He paused, taking a gulp, “Straight.”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Modern Life is Rubbish [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708369
Comments: 78
Kudos: 957





	1. Too Broken to Belong

Steve preferred to keep Saturday nights to himself.

Although he usually appreciated bonding time with the other Avengers, Saturdays were difficult to stomach, especially since the team were fond of indulging in more than a little alcohol at their weekend gatherings.

It wasn’t that Steve disapproved of the festivities; contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t so strait-laced as everyone in this century seemed to expect him to be. He had even been known for holding his drink surprisingly well despite his small stature in his youth.

However, being the only sober party surrounded by tipsy teammates wasn’t his idea of fun, and on his worst nights, the gatherings would leave him feeling a tangible hollowness in his chest as he remembered similar banter of days-gone-by with the Howling Commandos. It was nearly impossible not to grow overly sentimental about the friends he never said goodbye to when he watched Tony crack jokes with the same razor-sharp wit he had once seen in Morita, or Rhodey throw back his head in easy laughter as Dugan used to.

And the way Pepper would reach for Tony’s hand so tenderly as they each approached a state of blissful, drunken sleepiness never failed to set a lump in Steve’s throat, and a longing in his chest for someone he missed like a lost limb.

In fact, the ability of the inebriated team to find humour and camaraderie even in their darkest moments bore such similarity to the attitudes of the people Steve missed so dearly that he had decided to forgo joining these occasions entirely. Instead he would spend his Saturday evenings alone in his nostalgia.

Whether or not they understood his reservations about their social endeavours, the Avengers seemed to respect his distance- even Tony, in all his teasing and joking at Steve’s expense, wouldn’t violate his trust when he wanted time to himself. At most, he’d make an innuendo related to ‘alone time’ as Steve left, but harmless jabs like that were affectionate rather than malicious. The captain would always be grateful that the others didn’t demand him to explain himself at every turn- he wasn’t sure that he wanted to expose his emotions to them all, certainly not yet and maybe not ever.

Watching shows on the History Channel that detailed his own experience wasn’t something that Steve had expected to enjoy very much. Nevertheless, there was something comforting in seeing the grainy images that immortalised the moments he had spent in the company of everyone that now fertilized the ground beneath him. Knowing that other people still watched his comrades, seeing them for the heroes they were- that was enough to quell his fears that they had truly died. For as long as they remained in public memory, they lived on, as they deserved to.

Sometimes, if he was in one of his particularly morbid moods, he would indulge in documentaries from before they freed him from the ice. Those detailing his life from the perspective of narrators who truly believed that Captain America had died all those years ago, nobly sacrificing his life for the greater good of the people.

There were hours and hours of content dedicated to commending his selfless nature, his willingness to die for others. Interviews with the Commandos, in black and white with poor audio, speaking nothing but praises of their fallen leader; interviews with Howard Stark, ranging from days after the incident to days before the billionaire himself had died, consistent in his pledge that he was _still looking;_ testimonies from people he’d known, people he hadn’t, historians, fanatics, conspiracy theorists- each of them eulogising him in their own way.

It was unnatural, in a sense, that Steve was allowed to see these reactions to his own demise. That he could record them and play them back at will, pick them apart and try to understand himself as others saw him. He saw the wider implications that the moment had created, the ways in which he was manipulated into a national icon, a martyr and an example of what it meant to be a true, patriotic, red-blooded American. The tales they all told, believing in his bravery which would withstand all ages, and the timeless romance he shared with Peggy Carter.

He saw the more subtle effects of his death too; one of the greatest pains he bore was the feeling that maybe, had he been around, Tony’s childhood would have become a series of cherished memories rather than echoes of a recurring nightmare about a man shaping his grief into a weapon against his son.

The combination of guilt, curiosity and, at times, amusement that he would feel as he explored the archives of his past life could overwhelm Steve like nothing else, and sometimes he would be left in a dazed state, staring straight through the screen of the television, trying to make sense of it all before it drove him into insanity.

-

It was in a state like this that one night, when the team were busy celebrating Clint’s birthday, Steve was interrupted by the sound of the elevator opening at his floor, followed by quiet (but unmissable, given his enhanced hearing) footsteps.

He turned to see a kid standing a couple of steps outside the elevator, staring back at him with the frozen facial expression of a deer in the headlights. Stark’s new intern. Spider-man, although in all honesty he was more of a Spider-boy.

It would be the first time Peter Parker would interrupt his solitary Saturday evening routine.

“I am so sorry mister- Captain America- I mean, not _Mr. Captain America_ obviously, but I started saying mister by mistake and now here we are, on your floor, and I’m rambling but what I mean to say is- well I guess I just wanted to apologise, because I asked Mr. Stark where I could get a snack and I thought he said this floor but I must be wrong because this is clearly your floor and- did I say I’m sorry yet? Because I really am. So sorry. I’ll just- uh, I can go-”

He spoke at about a mile a minute, and it took all his self-restraint for Steve not to chuckle at the way the teenager was tripping over his sentences. In honesty, it was the first time he’d heard the kid say more than two words at once; Peter had always seemed unusually intimidated around him, perhaps more so than any of the other Avengers.

“Tony probably did mean this floor, kid. I’m usually pretty well stocked up on food here, and he knows it.” Steve smiled, tilting his head towards the kitchen area, “Go on, cupboard on the left. See if any of it lights your candle.”

Still looking very pallid and apologetic, he took a few tentative steps over to the unit Steve gestured to, opening the door.

“Jeez, that is a _lot_ of food.” Peter murmured, eyeing up the contents of the shelves indecisively.

Steve thought of the empty pantries of his childhood, and the gnawing hunger that would follow him everywhere he went, ubiquitous in its infliction of pain. Yes, he supposed- he did have _a lot of food_ , now that it was an option for him.

“Well, being enhanced takes some fuel, as you know.” He plastered on a plastic grin.

Peter hummed in agreement, opting for a packet of Skittles before shutting the cupboard and immediately making a beeline for the door.

“How’s the party going then?” Steve interrupted the intended quick exit.

“Oh- uh, it’s been good since you left. Wait- no- that’s not what I meant, I just mean- well, it was good before you left, obviously, but it’s still good. I mean, it kept being good. I’m enjoying it.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“You are?” Steve asked, the mirth evident in his tone.

“Honestly? Being sober down there is getting a little exhausting.” The boy smiled for the first time since he’d entered the room, “But I really appreciated the invite and I don’t want to seem ungrateful.”

“You do look a little tired. You know, Tony wouldn’t hold it against you if you took a breather up here for a moment.” He hoped it wasn’t insulting to mention how washed out the kid looked.

Truthfully, he was lonely, and whilst he didn’t have the energy to go down and join the fun at this time in the night, a little conversation would be nice.

“I don’t want to bother you, I know you must be busy with your- uh-” Peter grappled desperately to come up with an activity to no avail, noticing the blank TV screen and the otherwise quiet setting. “Sure, I can talk for a while.”

Shuffling over to an empty space on the unnecessarily large sofa a few feet across from Steve, Peter perched at the edge of it, clasping his hands together and resting them on his knees.

“That’s great. I feel like I hardly know you and you’ve been interning for Tony since- what, since about a month ago now?” He hoped that starting a real conversation would make Peter a little more relaxed, because at present the kid looked as if he was waiting for his fight or flight to kick in.

“Two months, actually. It’s been six since all the insanity started, though. Who knew one little radioactive arachnid could cause so many problems?” He let out a stilted laugh, before taking a handful of Skittles and popping them into his mouth.

“Is that how you see it?” Steve thought aloud, “More of a problem than a benefit?” At the petrified look this caused across Peter’s features, he rectified his mistake, “I didn’t mean for that to sound judgemental, kid. I understand that sometimes being enhanced isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, especially since you didn’t exactly choose it.”

Peter relaxed a little at this, pondering a response.

“I guess… I guess that I feel this pressure now, where there was nothing like that before? Like my life used to be completely my own and now it kinda belongs to the people of Queens or whatever because they expect me to be there to protect them. And I’m glad that they feel like there’s someone looking out for them but I- I just feel this responsibility now, 24/7, for anything bad that happens. Like, I’m always thinking I should’ve been there to help, and the reality is that sometimes I just… can’t.”

“It’s going to take time for you to level with the fact that you can’t save everyone,” Steve worried his lip, frowning a little before continuing, “but you should keep in mind that without you, a lot of people going about their lives right now would’ve missed out on the opportunity entirely. It’s- for me at least, it’s about making a positive contribution. As long I’ve created a better outcome than there would’ve been without my help, I feel as if I can sleep well at night.”

That was a lie. Steve hadn’t slept easily in years, not since he watched his reason for living slip away through his own fault. The kid didn’t need to know that, though.

“I guess.” Peter sighed sceptically, fiddling with the edges of the now empty bag of candy he held. It was clear that the well-adjusted hero façade Steve was fronting didn’t quite resonate with him.

There was a slightly awkward pause between the two; Steve mentally searched for a new topic of conversation whilst Peter chewed the inside of his cheek, having run out of candy. Oddly, it was the latter who broke the silence.

“Do you actually like the twenty first century?” The words were fast but completely comprehensible to Steve. Even so, he needed a moment to collect his thoughts on the matter. Nobody had really asked him that before.

“Hm?”

“I just mean- it must be pretty different. Like, technology, the speed of everything. The way people are treated.” He made little gestures with his hands as he spoke- a trademark of his discomfort.

“Do you like it?” Steve countered.

“What?”

“Well I’m not the only one here who didn’t choose to live in this era. I didn’t choose my own either. There are things about each of them that aren’t exactly perfect, but the way I see it, we all get dealt a hand and the best way to cope with it is to adapt accordingly.” It was probably the first honest thing he’d said all night, and it seemed to get the kid’s attention, as he furrowed his brow in thought before responding.

“I didn’t really think about it like that.”

“No. People usually don’t. I’ve become synonymous with the decade I fought in and I’m not actually proud of that fact. Sure, at the time I was excited to serve- I was delighted, actually, that I’d even been considered- but looking back on it now, it was barbaric. I look at you now and I see a baby, but if this was ’43 then you’d probably be out there fighting with me.”

“I fight now.” Peter muttered, clearly unhappy with being labelled as an infant.

“You do, of course, and it’s great because it’s on your own terms. War isn’t- it doesn’t leave room for your own convictions, not really. You’re a child shooting at other children because their clothing doesn’t match yours, and meanwhile the adults who started the fire factor your life into their statistics and pretend that it’s reasonable to send these young people to their deaths if it serves the ‘greater good’. You become disposable.”

“I doubt anyone ever saw you in that way.”

“Not after the serum, no. No, I had the privilege of being known and then publicly mourned after my own ‘death’, because I was in the right place at the right time. But plenty of kids like me with no next of kin had their brains blown out and frankly, nobody gave a shit. That’s war.” It was a grim statement, but a truth that he had learned with maturity, having lost the blind naivety that had him so desperate to enlist all those years ago.

“I’m sorry.” Peter looked sincere in his statement, and Steve cocked an eyebrow, confused at its significance.

“I don’t understand what you have to apologise for.”

“I misjudged you. No offence but by the way the media portrays you, you don’t come across as the type of guy I’d want to spend time with.”

“Offence taken.” Steve replied, smirking enough to let the kid know that he was just joking, “To be honest, Captain America as advertised isn’t the kind of person I’d want to hang around either. I’m not so much pro-war as anti-bullying.”

There wasn’t much left to say, and so Steve turned the television on, choosing an action movie that didn’t require a great deal of attention to follow. Peter remained there for a while, allowing himself to sit back into the sofa cushions instead of staying so upright and tense.

He left with a better understanding of the man behind the myth of Captain America.

-

Three months later, the pair had become far more comfortable in each other’s company. They’d settled into an accidental routine, wherein Steve would be waiting for him whenever the kid got too tired or bored of whatever festivities were occurring on Tony’s floor. Peter would inevitably choose a sugary snack, they’d talk for a while and then watch some ridiculous, wildly unrealistic action flick together late into the night.

Steve was starting to feel like he was the fun uncle or something.

This time, after grabbing a bag of Sour Patch Kids to satisfy his sweet tooth, Peter sat down wordlessly in the same place as he had each week beforehand, not waiting for permission.

Before he’d arrived, Steve had been watching a documentary entitled “Sergeant Barnes, the Unsung Hero”. The title was more than apt, and whilst the clips of the two of them within it elicited a pleasant nostalgia in him, the program had failed to capture Bucky’s essence, leaving a cold sensation within Steve’s gut. It illustrated his ability as a soldier, described his popularity with the soldiers in his team and the women he was acquainted with. Painted a pretty picture.

It left him numb that the way that he used to smile through his eyes, the glint in them when he was about to do something mischievous, and the way he cared so _fucking_ deeply even when he was in pain, were solely remembered by Steve. Years of having his brow wiped when he had a fever, having his hand held so gently and being whispered tender encouragements of ‘ _it’s okay baby, you’re gonna make it through this; you always do, right Stevie?’_ when he felt that he was about to die- nobody else knew. Nobody else could. The memories would die with him.

The hollow space in his chest was expanding. He was rendered motionless.

But here was Peter, looking at him expectantly, and so he had to reanimate before any suspicion arose.

He stood, making his way to the kitchen area to pour himself some water. “Want some?”

Peter nodded, rising from his seat to follow him over.

“Thought I’d come early tonight since they’re all down there getting trashed again. It’s no fun being a teenager.” He grimaced, taking the filled glass of water as Steve handed it to him.

“No fun being an adult either.” Steve quipped, holding a second glass under the tap, “I’m glad that you dropped by. It’s nice to actually get to know you myself, since Tony’s been singing your praises from the day you first set foot in his lab.” Having filled his own cup too, Steve headed back to the sofa with Peter, taking some coasters from the centre of the oak coffee table and placing them down in front of each of them. He then collapsed down into his well-worn spot again.

“He’s been saying nice things about me to you guys?” Peter blushed mildly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt before following Steve’s lead.

“Only when he’s breathing. You know that your nickname is ‘the Stark protégé’, right?” When Peter assumed a surprised expression, he added, “Tony is the kind of guy to mock you to your face and then praise you behind your back. That’s how you know he’s a good man.”

Peter seemed to contemplate this for moment whilst Steve took a long sip of his water. It was sweet that the kid had such an admiration for his mentor- it almost reminded Steve of how he’d felt about Erskine.

“It’s funny because whenever Tony talks about you, I find more similarities between us. A boy who grew up a stone’s throw from my borough, was orphaned, took it upon himself to fight bullies. And of course, has enhanced abilities.”

“In fairness, I think the similarities might end there.” The corner of Peter’s mouth turned up slightly, but his eyes held a definite melancholy.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Steve replied simply, choosing not to pry into why he seemed so adamant about that fact, “But in fairness, you’re a whole lot smarter than I ever was at your age. Hell, you’re easily ten times smarter than I am now.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that-”

“Hey, you don’t have to act all humble around me, kid. I’ve seen your genius for myself- I would’ve killed for those kinds of brains in school. Could’ve made it a lot easier.”

It didn’t take a ‘genius’ to notice the way Peter cringed at the very mention of school, and a slightly inquisitive look from Steve was all it took to open the floodgates.

“Peter- what did I say? Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- kid, don’t cry, it’s okay-”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry Captain Rogers, I’m just being an idiot...” he sniffled as Steve scrambled to find the box of tissues he knew he had lying around somewhere.

He retrieved them successfully from a draw under the coffee table, handing some to the boy wordlessly instead of risking saying something that would make matters worse.

“See?” Peter smiled through his tears, “I told you we weren’t similar. When was the last time you cried in front of anyone?”

_January, ‘45._

“Believe me, I’ve been there.”

_He had to go on. They all did. But especially him._

_He missed Bucky. They all did. But especially him. Fucking hell, especially him._

“Right.” Peter rolled his eyes, dabbing at his tear-soaked face. “Thanks for trying, but you don’t have to pretend to make me feel better.”

_He went outside just to scream, the night it had happened. Released his rage until his lungs were empty, beat the ground until his fists were bloody, and cried until his eyes were raw and stinging._

_When he’d returned to the rest of them in the morning, the tension in the air had been palpable. There was an understanding that they must all have known that his grief ran deeper than theirs, not only due to the longevity of his friendship. And an unspoken agreement that none of them would ever so violate his privacy as to pry about the true nature of his relationship with Sgt. James Barnes._

_They wouldn’t ask; he wouldn’t tell._

“I’m not pretending.” Steve asserted, taking a sodden clump of tissues from Peter and handing him a few fresh ones.

The boy paused then, studying the soldier’s face carefully, and upon seeming to find what he had been looking for, he nodded, wiping the final remnants of salty teardrops from his reddened skin.

“So, school isn’t going so well then?” Steve half joked, wishing that Tony was here to handle this in the oddly paternal way that he seemed to have the ability to.

“Hah… No, not so well at the moment.” He chuckled, sniffling again and covering his face for a second, whispering something that sounded like ‘ _oh my god…_ ’ under his breath.

“I assume that isn’t in terms of the academics?” He knew the answer already, but he wasn’t prepared to go straight in asking questions about the kid’s social life if it was going to make him uncomfortable- or worse, upset again.

“No, the academic side I can deal with. It’s more like- like pretty much everything else really.” He laughed again and started to fidget with his fingernails, picking away at the skin surrounding them, gaze fixed to the ground.

“Does Tony know that you’re struggling?”

“No! No- and please don’t say anything to him. He… I don’t think he’d get it.” The picking was intensifying; he’d started to peel off strips of skin and deposit them into the crumpled-up tissue on his knee. Steve winced.

“Why not?”

“Because. Because… Well, you wouldn’t get it either.” He sighed, finally giving up the attack on his own fingertips when Steve calmly but firmly separated his hands for him and took the tissue away.

“Listen, son. I know you might think that I’m completely out of touch with reality these days, but history repeats itself often enough that it’s entirely possible that I have some advice to give.”

Peter leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. The colour had completely drained from his face, and his whole body tremored as he took a deep inhale and let it out slowly.

“You won’t have any advice. You’re just going to judge me like everybody else but it’ll probably be even worse with you and then you’ll tell the others and they won’t want to have me around anymore and then what am I supposed to do?” His voice cracked as the sentence finished, and his obvious efforts to refrain from crying more than he already had proved to be in vain as the hot tears started to gather in his eyes again.

“Woah, hey kid. Hey. Look at me.”

Still shaking like a leaf, Peter complied, watching Steve’s face through his blurred vision. 

“Did you kill someone?” He was smiling and, thankfully, then Peter was too, giggling through the tears and shaking his head. “Hurt someone?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t see how any of us are going to stop wanting to have you around, son. Whatever it is that’s making you feel like this- no matter if you think we’ll understand or not, it’s important that you share it with someone to lift the burden off your own back, if nothing else. Oh, come here.” Leaning forwards, Steve extended his arms, wrapping them around the kid, who rested his head in the crook of Steve’s neck and sobbed.

“Nobody is going to think less of you for asking for help; you know the Commandos and I used to lean on each other when things got rough, right?” He reassured, rubbing comforting circles into Peter’s back between his shoulder blades, just like Bucky used to do for him a lifetime ago.

At the mention of his old teammates, Peter seemed to tense up again, and Steve rattled his brain trying to figure out why that would panic the kid when the intention was the opposite.

“I’m not sure that sharing my problems with them would have gone very well.”

He wondered, then, if it was something about the generational gap that bothered Peter. Something that he felt would alienate him from an older crowd, because- because…

Oh.

Gently taking hold of both of his shoulders, he eased the kid backwards, and suddenly he recognised the emotions he was seeing for what they were. Peter was far more like him than he seemed to believe.

“Peter…”

Steve suspected that even without his enhanced hearing the thump of the boy’s heart would have been audible. At least now the penny had dropped; the issue was figuring out how to talk about it.

Then, they heard the elevator doors sliding open.

“Peter!” A cheerful voice interrupted the lead-heavy atmosphere, “You left so early tonight, come back to the party, kid! Clint was just talking about how you-” upon viewing the scene before him, Tony’s eyes narrowed, “Are you crying? Rogers, what have you said to my ki- uh, intern?”

“He hasn’t said anything, Mr. Stark.” Peter replied firmly, giving Steve an emphatic look before wiping his eyes and standing to face Tony, “We were just watching a show about pets and it reminded me of a dog I used to have so I got emotional. You know me.”

Tony looked to Steve for confirmation of the story, and he nodded as convincingly as he could.

“I had a dog as a kid. Stray that followed me home one day back in Brooklyn- still miss him now.”

“I see.” Tony nodded, retaining a perplexed look but seeming to accept the reasoning provided- or at least that he wouldn’t be offered the true explanation for now. “Well, if you’re feeling better about things, come hang out with us again, kiddo. You too Steve, I’m sure the rest of the gang would love to hear some of your old timey dog tales when you have the time.”

“Sure, Tony.” Steve smiled placidly, watching the other man turn and head back to his festivities. As he left, Tony turned back for a second, squinting at the pair of them as if trying to solve a riddle, but thankfully he didn’t quiz them any further.

As soon as he was gone, Peter moved as if to follow but Steve was determined that the interlude wouldn’t prevent the kid from saying what he needed to.

“Peter, don’t you want to talk-”

“I’m really tired.” Peter mumbled, “I might just turn in for the night, it’s fine, you can just forget about the school stuff, it’s nothing, really.” He was stubborn, standing up to make an exit and shuffling towards the door.

Before Steve could come up with anything to change his mind, he was gone.

-

It took the next fortnight for Steve to see Peter properly again, and when he did, it was quite by accident.

Prior to this, he’d made every effort to speak to the kid again, regretting not saying what he should have said sooner, but Peter had avoided him like the plague. It hurt that the kid didn’t trust him anymore, but he understood the fear.

It was another Saturday upon which Steve decided to sit on the roof for a while and clear his head, and Peter had the same notion.

He was surprised when he noticed the figure climbing up to join him, and it seemed that the other party was equally taken aback judging by the way he stumbled once he reached the top.

“I believe there’s actually a door, you know.” He quipped as the kid came to sit next to him, breathing heavily.

“I prefer to take the road less travelled.” Peter replied, peeling his mask up from under his chin and discarding it beside him before wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his right hand.

The two of them sat there with their legs swinging over the edge of the building, observing the setting sun and awaiting the moment that the silence would be broken.

“Once, when I was about your age, I sat up on a ledge like this next to somebody else. We could see _everything-_ all these huge buildings and little cars passing by them underneath us, like toys.”

Peter didn’t interrupt- he only looked onward over the cityscape before him, mouth set in a perfect line.

“Of course, everything is bigger now, but at the time- God, it was like we were on top of the world. It was the first time I saw everything as this wider picture- thousands of people going at a mile a minute, keeping Brooklyn alive.” He glanced across at Peter, “And we didn’t give a damn about any of it, because we were so content just to be up there together. Would’ve abandoned the whole place for each other at the drop of hat, not that we needed to at the time. Those decisions came later.”

Peter placed his hands behind him, leaning back a little as he turned to face Steve inquisitively.

“Enough about that, anyway. You and I are going to talk, but I’d rather not have the conversation this high up, alright?”

Steve lifted his legs back up over the edge, planting his feet firmly on the roof and offering a hand to Peter, who took the support and stood up too. Letting go, Steve turned to walk back in through the fire escape, and the teenager took the silent cue to follow him.

When they reached the elevator, Peter hit the button for Steve’s floor, tensing his shoulders and holding his breath. Steve smiled at him reassuringly, patting him on the shoulder before they reached it.

Settling into his usual place, Peter regarded Steve warily, as if he were some volatile substance about to explode.

It really fucking hurt.

“Listen, kid. I know you’ve been avoiding me, and I respect that you needed the distance, but if something is still bothering you then I can’t keep leaving you alone about it. It isn’t healthy to keep things to yourself when they’re hurting you.”

He knew that first-hand.

“You don’t get it.” Peter mumbled into a cushion he’d taken an awfully tight hold of, “It isn’t that simple.”

“Why not?” He knew exactly why not. But he had to allow Peter to discuss this for himself; he wouldn’t rob him of that.

“Because you’re _you_ , and it’ll change everything.”

“Peter, why are you so worried about what I think of you?” His eyes were soft and sympathetic, and he awaited the answer calmly.

Peter blinked, unsure of how he was supposed to respond, attempting to remain calm despite his tightening chest and trembling hands, still clenched around the straining cushion as if it would tether him to safety.

“Everything you represent is everything I’m supposed to- supposed to…” He trailed off, staring directly downwards at the streets a thousand feet below him.

“What do you think you’re _supposed_ to be, Peter?”

“I don’t know. Brave. Strong.” He paused, taking a gulp, “Straight.”

For a moment, Steve felt a wave of relief that he’d been on the right track, but it was short-lived since the kid’s eyes had begun to water mid-sentence and had subsequently started streaming once he’d finished speaking.

“I’m sorry, I can go now, I know you’re probably disgusted and everyone else will be too once you tell them so I may as well just-”

“Hey,” Steve soothed, panicking that he hadn’t jumped in soon enough to reassure the kid, “Peter, come on now, that isn’t true at all.”

He hurriedly scrambled for the same tissues from weeks ago, giving up when he realised that they were no longer within reach and deciding to instead reach out and hug Peter once more, cradling his head to his chest and letting him sob into his shirt.

“There now, just let it out, kiddo. It’s okay, I’m not upset with you. And I’m not going to tell anyone about this unless you ask me to, okay?”

“What, you won’t tell them that I got snot all over your shirt?” Peter joked, and even though his face was puffy and tear-stained when he pulled away, at least he was smiling a little.

“That too.” Steve grinned, ruffling the kid’s hair amicably.

“You really aren’t going to tell anyone?” It was a whisper, as if he didn’t dare disturb this fantasy scenario within which Captain America respected his right to come out when and how he chose to.

“Of course not. When you’re ready, and you will be one day, you can do it. Until that time, you can come and let me know when it’s making life difficult- and I sense it is now?”

It was hardly a question.

“People at school just- they just suck sometimes. And the teachers ignore it because they don’t seem to care when the fa- the gay kid gets shit from everyone else.”

Steve grimaced.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to use bad language-”

“Peter, I couldn’t give a fuck that you’re swearing. You’re telling me that the adults at school don’t do anything to help you? That’s their job, Peter. It isn’t right.” He wished he was surprised but he wasn’t. Disappointed, yes, but far from surprised.

“I can’t do anything about it. I’m not Spider-man at school, so I can’t defend myself in the same way.” Steve recognised the resignation in his voice, and he felt so, so tired on behalf of Peter as well as himself.

“I’ll see what I can do. You can’t go on like this.”

Peter was still trembling and visibly holding back tears, sniffling every few seconds.

“Peter, have you… Have you ever told anyone that you’re queer before?”

“No.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, “And uh, I don’t- I don’t think you’re supposed to say that word. People use it more for, um- reclamation, and stuff, now. Sorry.”

“My apologies.” Steve nodded, hiding his slight amusement at the reprimand, “I’m proud of you for telling me how you feel. I know it isn’t easy, and I’m sorry I didn’t make it more obvious that I wouldn’t end up being part of the problem.” The last part was especially sincere; he felt like shit for being an additional threat as far as Peter was concerned. That was the last thing the kid needed.

“It really doesn’t bother you?”

“No, Peter, it doesn’t bother me. I know I’m a bit out-of-date, but I had a life before being America’s poster boy. I knew people who weren’t heterosexual, they’ve always existed.”

 _‘In fact, I knew plenty. I was one of them. I still am.’_ The things he wanted to say were lodged in the back of his throat; besides, this wasn’t about him.

“Wow.” Peter sighed, “They didn’t mention that the history books.”

“Well, the history books aren’t always fully informed.” He shifted slightly, “Would you like a snack? I got J.A.R.V.I.S to restock the jolly ranchers since I didn’t have any last time.”

“Uh, sure.” Peter also moved to stand, “I’m just gonna go and get changed- I don’t really like sitting around in this thing.” He gestured at the suit, and Steve nodded.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a minute then.” He smiled, although he sensed that perhaps he would not see Peter again that night and the kid was only looking for a reason to leave again.

“Yeah, see you in a minute, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please, just call me Steve from now on. I feel so old already.” He smirked, playfully shoving Peter’s shoulder.

“I’ll try, Steve. Ugh, it feels so wrong to call you that.” He muttered, making his way out.

_

To their mutual surprise, the teenager did actually return, clad in navy joggers, a baggy sweatshirt and a worn pair of socks.

“I’ve got about five texts from Tony asking why you’re hanging out with me instead of him now.” Steve chuckled, passing Peter his candy and a glass of water.

Peter didn’t laugh. He frowned, looking downwards guiltily.

“Yeah, you aren’t the only one I’ve been avoiding lately.”

“You know, Tony routinely makes a pretty significant donation to the Trevor Project from his own pockets. He doesn’t really shout about it because he doesn’t want it to be seen as pandering or some sort of publicity stunt, but he’s about the furthest thing from a homophobe I’ve ever met.”

“Apparently appearances can be deceptive though. I assumed that you would be the worst about it, but…”

“My public image leaves something to be desired as of late. I’ll work on it.” It was a promise that he intended to keep somehow. “But I can assure you, Tony will be completely supportive. It devastates him to see you upset, and if he knew what was tearing you up then he’d be so angry with himself for not making that clearer.”

Angry with himself in the same way that Steve felt now. Peter’s frown deepened, and he gestured to the phone on the coffee table.

“He just texted you then?”

“About two minutes ago.”

“Can you… Can you text him back?”

“Of course.” Reaching for his phone, Steve unlocked it with his fingerprint (the technology still seemed so invasive to him) and opened his conversation with Tony. “What am I telling him?”

“Can you tell him that I’m gonna go see him now? And that I have something to tell him.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, surprised at the confidence.

“You sure? You can take this at your own pace, don’t let anything pressure you.”

“I’m certain.” He paused, “But Cap- sorry uh, Steve? Would you mind coming with me?”


	2. No One is Dying Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter was determined to get his secret off his chest.
> 
> He didn't realise that Steve had one of his own.

Tony hadn’t been sleeping very well lately.

He hated to admit it, but he’d assumed responsibility as a sort of father figure to Peter Parker and seeing him so withdrawn and quiet was affecting him far more than he could’ve anticipated. Pepper had suggested that in time Peter would be ready to come and talk about whatever was bothering him, but patience was a virtue Tony had never quite possessed.

He’d tried to throw himself into tinkering as a distraction, but it was all in vain. No machine could keep him occupied for very long when he knew that the kid was struggling.

And yeah, maybe texting Rogers just because J.A.R.V.I.S had informed him that Peter was spending time with the super-soldier rather than him was a little desperate but fuck it- he was desperate.

(Texting six times might have been overkill though.)

Either way, Cap had responded; Peter was finally coming to see him, and apparently he had news. Tony tried to look as absorbed in his work as possible, even as he noticed the sound of the kid arriving.

“Hey Mr. Stark.”

He’d never been so grateful to hear that voice. Turning towards the door, he did a slight double take when he noticed that Peter had brought company.

“Hi Peter. And Cap- to what do I owe the honour?”

Tony didn’t miss the flicker of uncertainty crossing Steve’s expression as he glanced down at the smaller figure, as if looking for permission to speak. Peter pulled a slight face, evidently opting to explain for himself instead.

“I asked him to come with me because- well, because I have something I want to talk about but it’s kinda hard to broach the topic.” He fiddled with his hands as he spoke, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh. Sounds serious. Well. Okay then.” Now he was even more intrigued; the entire situation he was in was somewhat surreal. He gestured for the pair of them to take a seat, placing his screwdriver next to an engine he’d been attempting to fix but realistically failing miserably at.

There was a moment of uncertainty about who was going to speak first, but then Peter took a breath and each of the men looked at him expectantly.

“I wanted to- God, this is really awkward.” The kid put his head into his hands, and Steve placed a hand gently between his shoulder blades, resting it there to assure him.

“You’re telling me?” Tony joked, more than slightly surprised by the familiarity between the two of them, “What are we doing here, an intervention?” They weren’t smiling. He kept talking just to fill the void of sound, “No? Do I have to keep guessing?”

“Give him a minute, Tony. He can do it.” Steve spoke quietly, like he was trying not to scare off a skittish animal. It sort of made sense given the air of anxiety surrounding Peter.

“I just- you know how I haven’t really been myself recently?” His head was still tucked into his hands, muffling the words slightly. Tony’s befuddled expression softened.

“I’ve noticed.” That was an understatement. It was all he’d been thinking about since the weird behaviour had started.

First it’d been a reduction in Peter’s enthusiasm for little things; he didn’t want to help program the new update for J.A.R.V.I.S, then he wasn’t in the mood to go and grab ice cream with the team. Then, he’d started to dodge questions about pretty much anything- school, his friends, his social life; he’d always jump into deflecting them instead of giving a straight answer. Tony had assumed it was girl troubles, but when he’d tried to crack a joke about _that,_ Peter only closed off more. Tony wasn’t entirely sure if that confirmed or invalidated his suspicions.

Soon afterwards, all he seemed interested in was the Spider-man stuff- every time Tony checked on him, he was on another patrol, ceaseless in his pursuit of wrongdoers.

It was disturbing, to say the least, to watch Peter spiral until he had such a one-track mind, and Tony had longed for nothing more than to help the kid; however, it had proven impossible due to his total stubbornness and refusal to discuss whatever was actually hurting him.

Until now, at least.

“It’s been hard lately, at school especially. I should’ve come to you about this straight away, but I couldn’t, because I was… Well, I still am pretty terrified.” The words all ran into each other, and when he stopped for breath and peeled his hands from his face, his eyes were full of tears threatening to spill.

“Hey, remember what we talked about?” Steve prompted quietly, offering reassurance the best he could, “It’s going to be okay.”

“Right.” Peter whispered, lifting his head to face a still utterly lost Tony, “I’ve been closed off because I didn’t want you to think of me differently, but you probably will anyway and you’ll find out at some point so here it is I guess. I’m- you know how you asked me about if I was having girl troubles a little while back?”

“I recall, yes.” He bit his tongue to prevent mentioning that he also recalled an impressively theatrical and teenage reaction to the question; even Tony occasionally felt an inkling that he should avoid putting his foot in his mouth.

“It freaked me out that you assumed that because I don’t- I won’t ever have ‘girl problems’. I’m not… I’m not interested in girls.” A blush crept across his entire face as he spoke, and his breath became so rapid and harsh for a moment that Tony was convinced he was about to witness a panic attack.

Steve shared the same stricken expression as him when they met eyes, and unsure of the best course of action, Tony abruptly stood from his seat, making his way around the table to put an arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“Woah, woah- Underoos, hey, look at me.”

Peter obliged, his lower lip trembling.

“This is what’s been bothering you?”

He nodded.

Tony had a minor exchange with Steve when he looked over Peter’s shoulder, sending a look that tried to silently convey the question of ‘did you know?’ the Captain’s way. In response, Steve nodded solemnly, sending back an expression of urgency for Tony to quit digging for answers and focus on comforting the kid.

“Peter, do you really think I could be anything but incredibly proud of you for telling me that?” He smiled sadly, reaching to Peter’s cheek with his right thumb to wipe away a stray tear. “I’m so sorry that I made an assumption that made you so uncomfortable. Next time, you tell me to wise up and stop being such a dinosaur, okay?”

“Okay.” He sniffled, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe away some of his own tears, “God, I’ve cried in front of you guys so much in the past couple of weeks, I swear I’m not usually like this.”

“Kid, we know.” Steve chimed in with a smirk, “I’ve seen you in fights that would leave _me_ reluctant to turn up for work and you just walk them off, every time.”

“It’s true.” Tony nodded, “You’re the strongest of us all. Woe betide the asshole who decides to make any homophobic remarks to _you_.” Noticing the way that Peter had calmed, Tony took a step back, resting his elbows on the table in front of him and leaving Steve to keep going with the back-circling thing he was doing.

“I can’t do anything about homophobes at school though. I feel like the other kids would be slightly suspicious if ‘Penis Parker’ suddenly got up and started defending himself.” He mimed air quotes with his fingers as he recited the nickname, then allowing his hands to slump out in front of him helplessly.

“Who.” Tony grimaced, unable to conceal the rage in his voice, “Who the _fuck_ calls you that.”

“Who _doesn’t_ would be an easier question to answer.” He shook his head, “Some genius figured me out, and once they started using it, it caught on.” He turned his head towards Steve, and, laughing dryly, added, “Apparently they didn’t get the memo about coming out at your own pace.”

Once again, Tony felt as if he’d missed the boat on a crucial conversation between the other two, but he realised that now wasn’t the time to be asking questions for his own benefit.

“It was my own fault anyway.” Peter continued, “I liked some Instagram post a few weeks ago- just a stupid meme about being gay or whatever- and apparently someone noticed. I wouldn’t be in this mess if I’d been more careful.”

“What, so some asshole kid stalked your social media to bully you and somehow that’s your fault? No, Peter. This is completely on them. You shouldn’t have to be ‘careful’, this isn’t the fucking 1940s.” Tony argued, realising that his backhanded comment about the era Steve was from might not land too well. His fears were quelled when the Captain simply tilted his head and shrugged a little in agreement.

“Stark’s right. Things are supposed to have moved on since then- the induction pack S.H.I.E.L.D gave me was pretty clear on that one.”

“Some people just haven’t quite caught on. They throw slurs around like it’s nothing, and it’s really hard to- I don’t know…” The pain behind Peter’s words was excruciating for Tony to hear, and he mentally started to plot a thousand ways in which he could improve the situation.

“There has to be something we can do to remedy this.” Steve thought aloud, “We’re in a uniquely powerful position here, surely we could put out some statement or- I don’t know, just do something to show that the Avengers officially back the right opinion about gay rights?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of going in in the suit and scaring the kids who are saying these things shitless but sure, that would probably involve fewer lawsuits.” Tony conceded, pleased when he saw that he’d managed to make Peter laugh.

“Yeah, no offence Mr. Stark, but I think Steve’s method might actually help more.” Peter outright snorted as he had another thought, “Imagine the looks on their faces though, Iron Man just stepping out screaming at them.”

“ _Nobody messes with my gay kid!”,_ Tony couldn’t prevent mirth from seeping through his words, and as he mimed a fighting stance the others started howling with laughter.

“Imagine the- just imagine the thought process-” Now Peter’s eyes were watering because he was so amused, “they’re like- wait, Iron Man has a kid? Iron Man’s kid is gay? Iron Man’s gay kid is at my school?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! It would work!” Tony waved his hands as he protested, “I’m certain they’d never bother you again.”

“Maybe,” Steve weighed in, “but you’d have about a million reporters knocking the doors down asking about your illegitimate son.”

“So what? I should be so lucky as to have people think Peter and I were related. Of all the controversies I’ve had to date, at least that would be flattering.” Tony smiled, ruffling Peter’s hair fondly. “Speaking of relatives, has your aunt May not heard about this? I’m sure she’d have a word or two to say.”

“I’m sure she would.” Peter monotoned, “She’s made her opinions very clear.”

“She has?” Steve asked. He remembered Peter mentioning that he’d not come out to anyone before, so it didn’t take a long thought process to come to the conclusion that her opinions weren’t in Peter’s favour.

“She’s pretty traditional. Catholic. I’ve tried slipping things into conversation before to see how she’d react, and it was always a ‘not in my household’ type of thing with her.” He lifted his hand to his mouth, starting to chew at a hangnail, but Tony batted it away again.

“Bad habit, kiddo.” He huffed, continuing, “Howard was much the same.”

“He was?” Steve interjected, immediately looking as if he regretted it when Tony shot him a questioning glance, eyebrows raised. “I mean- well, I suppose never would’ve known something like that about him, but he always came across as quite forward-thinking.”

“…Right.” Tony replied, still studying Steve’s face as if he was trying to solve a riddle, “Well I know he had the odd gay colleague in the past, and he never spoke badly of them,” his eyes seemed to linger on the Captain, “but as far as family members, it was a big taboo. I remember him giving me some lecture about avoiding ‘homosexual behaviour’ when I was around your age- would’ve scared me shitless if I’d been into guys.”

“I see.” Steve muttered, unable to meet eyes with Tony; he’d said too much. Peter looked between the two of them, coughing uncomfortably to remind them of his presence.

“I- uh- I think May is the same.” He stumbled through the words, “She can’t know, not until I move out at least.”

“She might come around before then, kid.” Steve reassured, frowning in sympathy.

“And if she doesn’t, you’re always welcome to stay here. That offer stands if you just need a break, too.” Tony gritted his teeth, “I don’t want you growing up insecure about your sexuality anymore; it isn’t right.”

“Which brings us back to the question of how we can help you now.” Steve added, “Do you think going to the school directors would be the best way to handle it? Obviously we’d have to ask them to show discretion, not make it all about him, but they need to know that it’s unacceptable that they’re allowing this bigotry to go on.”

“I don’t see why not.” Tony agreed, “I’m rather tempted to throw a press conference actually. Like you said earlier, making a statement without ambiguity could be a good approach. Just to clarify that the Avengers have a zero-tolerance for homophobia, and we stand with the community.” He furrowed his brow, “We really should’ve said something as a team after Pulse.”

“We can say something now.” Steve said simply, “That is, if Peter wants us to?”

They both suddenly remembered that the party they were attempting to aid was still sitting between them, and when they turned to him, his expression was positively beaming.

“You guys would do that for me?” He whispered, looking back and forth between them in awe, “Do you know how much this is gonna mean for queer kids? Superheroes- not just any superheroes, but _the Avengers_ , believing in them? That’s huge.”

“Well maybe someday Spiderman will come out publicly and it’ll be even bigger.” Tony smiled, “But for now he needs some sleep because it’s late and no fifteen-year-old should have bags that big under his eyes.” Slapping him on the back twice, he waited for the kid to hop down from his seat.

Reaching out his arms, Tony enveloped the boy in a tight hug, letting him choose when to let go.

“Goodnight.” The boy whispered, looking significantly happier than when he’d arrived.

“Night kiddo. Proud of you.” Tony replied, watching as he left.

-

Only Steve and Tony remained in the room, after that. Unspoken words hung heavily in the air as the men sized each other up for a second, each waiting for the other to talk first.

Steve gave in.

“Look, you were right when you told him it was getting late. So if you want to ask me something, you can ask now, or I’m going to bed.” The words were calm, controlled. The antithesis to his emotional state.

“My father’s homophobic tendencies seemed to come as quite the shock to you.” He remarked. It wasn’t accusatory in tone; only curious.

“He was never like that when I knew him.” Steve replied, leaning forwards onto his elbows and resting his head atop his hands. “More of a forward-thinker in his youth, maybe.”

“And you’re aware of this because…?” Tony enquired, though he was fairly certain that he could ascertain the answer for himself.

“Because he never gave me any trouble.”

Steve waited for a reaction- surprise, confusion, something- but Tony only nodded, biting his lip thoughtfully and leaning back to rest his palms on the surface of the counter behind him, adjacent to the wall.

“Barnes.”

He wasn’t asking.

“ _Inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield_.” Steve recited; the words were weighty on his tongue despite the initial intention being light sarcasm.

“I’m glad the old man didn’t give you shit for it.” Tony sighed, “Although I’m not sure any man of his stature would’ve tried his luck making comments about you.”

“Not to my face, sure.” Steve conceded, “But it was more than within his power to issue a blue ticket. That was our main concern when he found out.”

“Yeah, because he would’ve had the nation’s greatest science experiment kicked out of the military.” Tony scoffed, face contorted into an expression of cynicism.

“Not me, no. Bucky. Not much I could’ve done if he was discharged, given that protesting it would’ve raised some questions.”

“Ah.” Tony nodded, then followed with, “Wait- you said my dad ‘found out’? May I ask how?”

“Right. Well. Um. We had a tent to ourselves, and Howard was renowned for his tendency to barge in unannounced, so I think you can infer for yourself how that one worked out.”

“ _No._ ”

“Yes.” Steve smirked, “He announced himself loud and clear whenever he came to see me after that one, I can assure you.”

 _“Oh my God._ My _dad_ walked in on _you_ and _Bucky Barnes_ doing the dirty?” Tony gasped, “He never mentioned that one when he told me his war stories.”

“No, I don’t imagine that it ever came up in conversation with anyone. He seemed suitably traumatised at the time, and we never spoke of it again. I did catch him paying more attention whenever I interacted with Bucky, though.”

“Yeah, you probably gave him a heart attack.” He joked, “But I’m pleasantly surprised that he never gave away your secret."

“I often think that he was a nicer guy when he was younger. From what you tell me.”

“That could be true. In fairness, his prejudice at that time could’ve been related to the AIDS crisis. He knew I was sleeping around anyway, but I think in his mind the fact that it was only women made him a little less concerned about my venereal health.”

“I’m glad I missed the eighties. It sounds like hell.” Steve muttered, shaking his head slowly.

“Forties doesn’t sound like it was exactly a gay paradise either, old man.”

“People mostly pretended we didn’t exist. I think it’s harder now, in some ways.”

“Not planning on having a coming out party any time soon then?” Tony cocked an eyebrow as he asked, “Who actually knows about you, this side of the millennium?”

“You.” Came the response.

“You haven’t even told the kid?” He seemed surprised, “Not to pressure you or anything, Capsicle, but I’m pretty sure you have a chance at becoming a fairly important role model here.”

“I’m thinking about it.” Steve said, “I didn’t want to take his moment and make it all about me once he told me. I’m sure more opportunities will arise.” He smiled, “You know, he told me I shouldn’t be using the word ‘queer’ earlier.”

“Yeah, language may have changed but I’m pretty sure you’re personally entitled to reclaim that one.” Tony laughed, “Captain America, gay icon. Who would’ve thought it? Fox are going to have a field day whenever you decide to drop that bombshell.”

“Yeah, uh Tony? Until that time-”

“Your secret’s safe with me. I might be a loudmouth but I can keep things to myself when people need me to. Just like daddy dearest.”

“Thanks.” The soldier stood to leave, but before he reached the door, the other man coughed meaningfully.

“Oh, and Steve? You know, there are forums these days- things we could sign you up for anonymously, if you needed to talk to anyone with actual expertise.”

“Oh. Right, well-”

“Sleep on it. It isn’t weak to need support, especially after everything you’ve been through.” He looked at Steve imploringly, and the Captain nodded curtly before stepping out of the workshop.

-

The following Saturday, it appeared that the previous routine had been resurrected, as Peter turned up in Steve’s living room right on time. The super-soldier was sipping on a cup of coffee, and he raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise as the boy practically skipped across the room.

“Hey, Steve.” Peter smiled, hopping over the back of the sofa and into his seat.

“You’re full of energy today.” Steve remarked, smacking the kid’s shoulder amicably.

“Everyone’s been talking about the statement you guys made. Yours especially- it means a lot to people that even someone from a less accepting time can such a good ally.”

“Ally?”

“Yeah, that’s uh- I guess that’s like the general term for straight people who make a point of being supportive.”

“That’s interesting.” Steve mused.

“Yeah, it’s fantastic.” Peter responded enthusiastically, missing the pang of melancholy in the Captain’s voice, “So what are we watching tonight?”

Steve didn’t reply. Instead, he took the remote control and turned on the television, navigating the menu until he found the documentary he’d been watching a few weeks prior.

“Bucky Barnes?” Peter spoke tentatively, squinting at the screen- this didn’t exactly fit in with their usual choices of overacted action flicks.

“Heard of him?” Steve replied, trying to keep his tone casual but failing rather miserably. This wasn’t about to be easy for him.

“Yeah, there was a module about him when we were studying the Howling Commandos in history class. He was your best friend, right?”

Steve chuckled dryly, shaking his head.

“So they all say.” He watched the sepia footage of his ‘best friend’ for a couple of seconds, before tearing his gaze away, “The problem with history books is that sometimes they sometimes miss key aspects of the story.”

When he looked back at the screen, it was playing a grainy video of the pair of them. Bucky and Steve, Barnes and Rogers, inseparable ‘best friends’ to the bitter end. He watched his own face, observed the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, his expression as genuine as they come.

Peter studied it too, brow furrowed in confusion.

Then, something clicked.

“He wasn’t just a friend.”

“No.”

Even more bewilderment overtook Peter’s face, before he seemed to come to a realisation. Steve watched as the bewilderment the boy had been feeling was replaced by something far more pitying.

“He died, didn’t he. Before you went under. You... You saw him die.”

Steve’s mouth tightened at the corners, confirming the answer wordlessly.

“Do the others know?”

He shook his head, “Only Tony, and only since about a week ago. I didn’t see much of a reason to bring it up before then. It isn’t as if I’m searching for a partner this century- now that he’s gone, I don’t see much of a point anymore.”

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” The sentences seemed feeble as they left his mouth, but he wasn’t sure that there were words that could aptly express his sympathies.

“Don’t be, kid. I was fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to love him at all. I thought the feelings were one-sided for a long time.” He leaned back in his seat, resting his head back, and added, “One day you’ll meet someone like that, and he’ll change everything. It’s very hard to worry about what people are saying about your sexual preference when it brings you everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner.”

“I’m glad that you were together.” Peter said quietly, “Whenever we read about him in the history books, he seemed so lonely to me. They painted him as this womaniser who never really settled down, right? If I were him, then I think I would’ve preferred to know in my last moments that someone cared for me more than anything in the world.”

Steve sized Peter up for a second, before he simply replied, “Thanks, kid.”

After the documentary finished and Peter left, Steve, overwhelmed, cried for the first time since 1944.

-

_“You ever think about the future?” Bucky whispered into Steve’s neck, as one of his arms rested on the man’s torso and the other lay beneath its weight, numbed in a way he found he didn’t really mind._

_“What, the future after the war?” Steve turned his head to rest it on top of Bucky’s mop of dark hair, inhaling and kissing him there even though it was caked in grease._

_“After the war… When we get old and grey…” He mumbled, nestling his head closer to his companion, basking in the warmth of his body heat._

_“Mm, when we finally tie the knot and buy the farm, have a couple of kids and then retire together? That future?”_

_“You want me to knock you up?” Bucky chuckled, laughing harder when Steve slapped his ass in mock-indignance._

_“Hmph.”_

_“You never know, Stevie. Science has done some pretty extraordinary things lately- it might only be a matter of time before Stark Industries does something shocking again.”_

_“I can’t see Howard signing off on something like that.” Steve countered, “He can barely look me in the eye since last week.”_

_“Oh, screw him. He should’ve been more careful.” Bucky spoke flippantly, shifting his legs into a more comfortable position where they were tangled with Steve’s._

_“He should’ve been more careful? I think that was our job. If it had been anyone else-”_

_“But it wasn’t anyone else, so relax, punk. He ain’t saying anything to anyone.” He tilted his neck back to face Steve and reached a hand back behind his head, pulling it forwards so they were nose-to-nose. “Anyway, enough talk of Stark while we’re in bed.”_

_“My apologies.” Steve twisted his head and leaned in so that their lips met, and he pressed a close-mouthed kiss there gently._

_“You can do better than that,” Bucky spoke against his mouth, taking Steve’s lower lip between his teeth and sucking on it suggestively._

_Reciprocating, Steve took a moment to drown in the feelings, head swimming with adoration for the man in his arms._

_Maybe the future was something to look forward to, if it could be like this forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... Turned out a little sadder than I initially intended. We all know he's alive reallyy though so it's okay.
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated very much! Also if anyone happens to have a request send it my way in the comments or on my tumblr: https://leashlessconfusion.tumblr.com/


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